


suck it (and see)

by mayhemcauses



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cliches Galore, Edited, M/M, Pre-Slash, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 18:57:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6126814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayhemcauses/pseuds/mayhemcauses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Jean and Eren meet due to a bad habit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	suck it (and see)

**Author's Note:**

> content warning for smoking cigarettes (huh)  
> -  
> i just finished writing my thesis and wanted to use Word for something other than the fucking history of cigarette advertising - so, as you do, i wrote about these two angel beans
> 
> EDIT (27.8.2016): this was planned to be a chaptered thing but I wasn’t feeling it, so I edited it and made it into a more of a one shot! hope it’s still enjoyable ^-^

“Hey.”

Jean doesn’t want to look up, so he doesn’t. He’s staring at the ashtray next to his bare feet, overflowing with stumps of cheap cigarettes. It doesn’t make for a pretty sight and he thinks about cleaning it up briefly before he decides that _eh_ , whatever. Jean explicitly doesn’t think about the fact that the tray had been half-empty as he sat down only an hour prior.

The voice behind him huffs then, impatient after being ignored. Jean rolls his eyes.

“Can I smoke here?”

Jean silently admits his defeat as he cranes his neck, shrugging at the boy standing behind him. He’s cute; dark skin, unruly hair that’s tugged behind his ears. Jean eyes the cigarette in his own hand pointedly, raising an eyebrow. “What d’ya think?”

His voice comes out raspier than he’d anticipated and he swallows down the urge to clear his throat. Chain smoking for an hour will do that to you, he supposes.

The stranger cracks a grin, seemingly unaffected by Jean’s sarcasm and uninviting stance. He shrugs, in an over the top kind of way that doesn’t sit right with Jean’s brooding mood, and holds one hand up in mock-surrender.

“Just checking. You looked like you were kinda in thought there or something.”

Jean wants to roll his eyes again. The stranger might be cute, his type even, but he is not in the mood for a chat right now. And this boy seems positively _chatty_.  Jean prefers to do his moping alone and in silence, like any responsible adult would.

He doesn’t want to be a tool either, though, and so he motions to the vacant space next to him, “Suit yourself. It’s a free country, right?”

The stranger grins again and flops down next to Jean, leaving a polite distance between them. Jean kicks himself internally for wishing he could feel the warmth of the boy’s leg pressing against his. He must be more tired than he thought.

Taking out a pack of cigarettes from his too-wide jeans, the stranger quickly puts one in his mouth and regards Jean with a sheepish look in his eyes. “You got a light?”

Jean hums and throws his lighter in the general direction of the stranger. He stopped bothering with putting it away after his third smoke that night.

The boy catches it with an ease that pisses Jean off, since he doesn’t have any reflexes of himself to speak of. There’s something about this stranger next to him that puts him on edge, and it makes Jean’s hands clammy in a way that he hates. He’d been fine with sitting out and smoking by himself, brooding the night away in a typical “I don’t know what my life is”-fashion.

“Name’s Eren, by the way,” the boy says and takes a long drag off his cigarette. He looks like he hasn’t had one in a while, a stark contrast to Jean who’s been doing nothing but smoking for close to an hour.

“Jean.”

“Hmpf, ‘s that French? Sounds like it. I had to take French in high school, was pretty shit at it though.”

He’s almost impressed, stupid as it is, because most people’s minds go straight to John or Shawn after hearing his name.

Shrugging, Jean takes the ashtray from between his feet and places it between himself and Eren, who shoots him a grateful look.

“Yeah. My mum’s from there.”

Eren nods and takes another deep drag off his smoke, leaning back on the flat of his palms to watch the sky above them. Jean considers him for a moment, taking in the wide stretch of his neck as his head tips back to look at the stars. His dark skin’s got a nice shine to it under the moon, the stars and the shitty artificial light that’s surrounding them.

“So,” Jean starts and closes his mouth shortly after. He isn’t in the mood to talk, not really, but sitting in silence with the boy next to him seems strange and there’s something about him that catches Jean’s interest. “You studying here?”

Eren lets his head fall on his shoulder, looking at Jean with a smile stretching out over his face. “Yeah. I mean duh, we’re literally outside of Uni at ass o’clock in the morning.”

Jean thinks he’s getting made fun of, but that he also doesn’t mind somehow.  

“It’s 11pm,” he says, brows scrunching up between his eyes.

Eren waves his hand around, “Technicalities.”

Jean hums and puts his cigarette out. His feet are cold, despite it being August, and his eyes have started to grow tired from the smoke and sitting still for such a long time. He should leave, but doesn’t make a move to stand up. Eren needs his ashtray and he’s being polite, is what he tells himself.

He’s all out of cigarettes though, and he ponders asking Eren for one, but the scratch in his throat makes him hesitate. Not having something in his hands is making him antsy, fingers tapping against his thigh, picking loose threads from the holes in his jeans. He really didn’t want to have a conversation, but now that it’s started, something seems to keep him from leaving.

He’s probably staring at Eren in a way that might be considered a bit creepy, but he can’t really bring himself to stop. Eren’s still looking up at the stars, but Jean’s been doing nothing but that for an hour and even the vast expanses of the universe get boring after a while. There aren’t that many stars visible anyway, the bright lights from their Uni building making it hard to spot them.

Eren’s wearing baggy jeans, nothing like Jean’s black skinny ones with holes in them that he thought would make him look edgy and cool. He knows that practically everyone has holes in their jeans, and that it’s far from being original in any way, but he likes to think he can pull it off. Eren’s also in a baggy blue T-shirt that hangs low on his collar bones and seems stretched and faded out. The skin that’s peeking out from the fabric of the shirt makes Jean lick his lips.

Eren looks good, which makes Jean hate him a little bit. He’s literally wearing a shitty shirt and jean combo that should make anyone look homeless.

“You shouldn’t stare at people, you know.” Eren turns to look at him again, and Jean hopes it’s dark enough that he can’t see the pink dusting his cheeks. “It’s rude.”

Jean pretends to look unaffected by being called out and snorts. He’s trying to convey a “don’t know what you’re talking about” kind of vibe but by the look Eren’s giving him, he must not be very convincing.

Eren squints his eyes and says, “Don’t even pretend you weren’t.” His tone’s playful.

“I’m sharing my lighter and my ashtray with you, I can stare all I want.”

Eren grins again, all teeth and an open expression on his boyish face, “So you admit that you were staring.” His tone is laced with victory and Jean can’t help but let a small smile graze his lips. He hides it quickly though, setting his mouth in a straight line while rolling his eyes.

“Hm, whatever. Was just admiring your shitty clothes.”

Jean’s staring straight forward again so he only sees Eren out of the corner of his eye as he mock gasps, hand flying to land on his chest. “I’m so sorry,” he says. “I forgot to pick up my Givenchy at the dry cleaner’s this morning.” And then, as an afterthought: “Mr. Ripped Jeans”

Jean has to be careful not to laugh, which doesn’t sit right with him. He just wanted a nice night outside, chain smoking and contemplating the meaningless of his existence. Meeting cute boys in baggy clothing hadn’t been part of his plan. At all.

And he thinks his jeans are cool. Really.

 

Jean huffs and folds his arms. He likes his jeans, and he  _does not care_ what Eren thinks of them.

“Are you done?” He stands up, dusting his hands off on his pants and wiggling his toes, trying to get some warmth into them. “Need my ashtray.”

Eren’s eyes go wide and he flops around on his bum, looking like an impatient child. “No-o, don’t go, French-Jean!” His hand reaches out to wrap around Jean’s and it’s impossibly warm and solid against Jean’s bony wrist. “I like your dumb ripped jeans, I promise!” Eren insists, tugging at Jean’s arm to get him to sit down again.

Jean considers him, taking in his frame as he sits on the ground, shamelessly stretched out to a point where he’s almost lying down. Just because he can, he squints his eyes and furrows his brows, trying for to give Eren a bit of a stinky eye. He doesn’t admit to himself that he just wants to hear some more of Eren trying to get him to stay.

“Aw, come on!” Eren says, his voice laced with a whiney edge. “I meant your cool ripped jeans, I like ‘em. I’ll let you bum a smoke, alright?”

Eren waggles his eyebrows in a semi-seductive way that makes Jean let out the laugh he’s been trying to hold in for a while. He shakes his head and the grin doesn’t leave his lips as he sits back down next to Eren. They’re closer this time and Jean hopes it doesn’t seem like it was intentional on his part. Eren just beams at him and fishes a cigarette out of his torn pack. He sticks it right into Jean’s mouth, catching him off guard as the other splutters and blushes a bright pink again.

Eren fishes the lighter from somewhere beside him and brings it close to Jean’s lip, where the cigarette hangs from his half-opened mouth. Jean muses that he must look like a complete idiot, blushing and gaping while a cute boy is about to light his smoke for him.

Eren’s leaning in closer than he’d probably have to, but Jean doesn’t trust his perception enough to know if it’s just wishful thinking on his part.

They’re staring into each other’s eyes as Eren lights the cigarette, tension as heavy and thick as the smoke between them. Jean gulps and can’t help but let his eyes dart down to Eren’s lips for a second, watching him wet them with his tongue. His bottom lip is thick and plump, a dark pink that looks like he was just sucking on it. Or had someone suck on it.

Jean jerks his gaze away, almost losing his cigarette in the movement of turning his head away from Eren. He clears his throat.

“So, what are you doing at Uni?” he asks. His voice comes out higher than he’d intended and he berates himself for acting like a school girl with a crush.

Eren’s still in his space, but backs away and Jean can feel him shrugging next to him. “I’m studying Geography, but it’s not like..”

He doesn’t finish the sentence but somehow Jean feels as though he knows exactly what he means. He glances at Eren and takes a drag off his cigarette, nodding. “Yeah, I’m doing Art History and it’s not like …” he mimics Eren’s tone, “either.”

Eren smiles then and draws his knees a bit closer to his body, curling in on himself. “Just wanted to get away, you know?”

Jean can relate. Going to Uni wasn’t and still isn’t his dream future, he’s not sure what he wants to do with his life but going to college seemed like the first step to break away from his previous life, and so he went.

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I know.”

“But like,” Eren’s grinning again, and it makes Jean’s stomach flutter a bit, tug at his gut in a way that’s nice and exciting. “Girls at Uni are hot, you know? And there’s lots of booze I guess.”

Jean wonders if he should reveal how little he actually cares about the hotness of college girls. Eren  _could_ be a radical homophobe, who’s just into getting into random boys’ personal space as a strict “No Homo” kind of thing, after all.

Jean already is in kind of a “fuck it” mood though, and he’s finding himself ridiculously attracted to Eren, so he lets out a small laugh. It doesn’t sound nervous to his ears, but they have betrayed him before.

“Yeah, don’t really care about hot girls that much.”

Eren raises his eyebrows, regarding Jean for a second before he cracks a smile and says, “Sweet.”

Jean almost chokes on his spit.

He’d been hoping for this flirting thing to be mutual but he hadn’t expected Eren to be so direct about it.

Eren laughs at his dumbfounded expression, “You did mean that you’re into guys right? ‘Cause-“

“I am. I mean, I did. I did mean that. I am. Gay. That is.”

Jean’s making a fool of himself and he can feel the way his cheeks are hot, they must be a bright pink by now. He can’t help but think though that he doesn’t mind that much. Eren’s cute and has delicious looking dark skin, unruly hair that’s just long enough and  _shit_ it’s been a while since Jean got laid. He at least hopes he’s being endearing.

Eren’s not laughing anymore, he just has this obnoxious, dopey smile on his face that reaches his eyes as he looks at Jean. “I like you, Mr. Ripped Jeans.”

Jean wills his stomach to stop with the ridiculous fluttering it has going on, and tries to come up with a retort. He falls flat though, and ends up just staring at Eren.

Eren, who’s getting up from his position on the ground, seemingly willing to leave without a phone number, or even a last name.

Jean squints and calls out, “Hey!” He’s still on the floor, doesn’t want to seem too desperate by also getting up and following Eren like a puppy.

Eren tilts his head as he looks at him, smiling down “Huh?”

The dickhead is actually making Jean do all the hard work, and if he were even a little less cute (and if Jean were a little less desperate) he’d tell him to fuck off. But alas.

“Uh, same time tomorrow?”

Jean wants to hit himself in the face.

Eren doesn’t seem to mind the fact that Jean’s acting like a teenager from the 50’s though, and just throws him one last grin and a cheerful, “Sure! See ya French-Jean.”

He turns to leave and disappears in the building. Jean wants to see where he’s going but he’s too terrified of being caught staring.

He does smile to himself after a minute, kind of looking forward to the kind of date he just kind of scored.

Or rather, a scheduled smoking with a stranger. A cute stranger.

He turns his head around and looks at the ashtray next to his feet again.

It’s ridiculously full, overflowing almost and Jean looks at it, sighs, and tells it “Same.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> hmu @ tumblr! [@broboners](http://broboners.tumblr.com) B-)


End file.
